For 1953, there are hundreds of neatly filed negatives. Each sleve marked with the month, in father's neat fountain pen script. After that, everything is gone. During the war, that was the first thing to disappear. In Rajshahi, another old man mournfully talked about his lost diaries. When father snaps family events now, the images are hopelessly plain, I mourn the loss of his possibilities. Meanwhile, mother insists:

Your aesthetics came from this side of the family. I used to draw so much, if only I had kept it up.

The Rankin Street house was sold sometime in the 1970s. A greedy city came and swallowed up entire blocks. Seven sisters each got one-seventh of the sale price, a pittance in the 1970s. Three brothers inherited the plot in Dhanmondi. These are the ways the swaps happened.

William Goldman’s Marathon Man imagines a muskeljuden scenario in the middle of the diamond district. The accusation comes from Lotte Palfi Andor, she who escaped Europa in year zero. Her visceral screams refuse the restrained chatter of Hanif Kureishi's Sammy and Rosie get laid.

To search for parallels between the German Autumn and Bangladesh'slong summer of lal ghora (red horse), is almost too limiting. The networks of imagining utopia through conflagration were connected against their own will. Sartre's statement after Stammheim hinted at the limits of his foreword to Fanon: revolutionary violence fell in the hands of adventurers. But what of Afsan? He had read a lot of Marx, and out-argued his classmates; but the men who came visiting one day cared little for all that.